


As Wanting

by cranes



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Reunion, polygems - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:38:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranes/pseuds/cranes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to Steven's dreams, Rose Quartz does not, in fact, smell like roses.</p><p>(They wake to the scent of dirt after rain.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Wanting

In Steven’s dreams, Mom smells like roses.

* * *

 _Okay,_ so he never claimed to be a creative genius. Well, alright, maybe he did, once or twice—but Amethyst just laughed at him, and Pearl gave him that straight-lipped, mildly-judgmental look of concern she gets sometimes, and Connie  _snorted._ Actually  _snorted,_ because the giggle she’d been trying to stifle was apparently Too Powerful for her mortal form.

Anyway, who’s to say Mom  _didn’t_ smell like roses? Roses smell nice. And Mom was nice, right? So, so like, she  _could_ have smelled like roses, if she’d wanted to. Right?

Anything smells better than this.

Garnet warned him—battle isn’t pretty. None of them told him how it  _smelled:_  like sweat and smoke and iron in his mouth, the feeling of mud on his arms, apologies between his teeth.  He’s sure they’d try to comfort him, if they could.

They’re lying on the ground a few feet away. Not hurt, just unconscious. Jasper hit them pretty good. They hit back, but Jasper’s eyes are still open, and she’s still on her knees, and cursing, and Steven realizes in his gut there’s only one way this scenario ends.

 _Roses smell nicer than starfish, anyway,_ he thinks.

He picks up his mother’s sword.

He runs.

* * *

Contrary to Steven’s dreams, Rose Quartz does not, in fact, smell like roses.

Greg always compared Rose to the smell of damp earth, growing things, thunderstorms. In contrast,  _Steven_ smells like the ocean—clam shells, tidal pools, fishing boats and seaweed and driftwood. He smells like the wet sand crusting in his dark curls. Like starfish.

They wake to the scent of dirt after rain.

Amethyst’s eyes are the first to creak open.  _Ow,_ is her first coherent thought, followed by a rather blatant  _mother **fucker.**  _Her head feels twice the size it should normally be.  _Wait._  She grabs at it quickly. Nope, still normal-sized. ThankGod, she doesn’t think she could go through  _that_ again.

Then she looks up, and—

“Pearl,” she whispers after a minute. “P, wake up.”

Pearl moans. Amethyst shakes her, numbly aware she’s on the verge of mild hysteria. Wake up. Wake  _up._ Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me you see her, too.

Please, P.

_Please._

Pearl’s eyes open, and then they widen, and Amethyst knows she’s not crazy. Strangely, she feels no more comforted than she did before.

She clings to Pearl, anyway.

It’s another few seconds before Pearl’s lips are able to form the name.

“R-Rose?”

And it  _is,_ she  _is,_ she’s standing there real and whole and  _alive,_ soft curls pulsing gently with the wind, lips curved in a small smile. As Amethyst watches, Rose holds out her hand to them. “Are you two alright?” she asks.

Neither Amethyst nor Pearl move, both frozen solid in shock. Amethyst can hear her breath starting to come fast in her ears.

Beside them, Garnet stirs at the sound.  _Help,_ Amethyst thinks desperately, mindlessly.  _Garnet, what’s going on? Tell us what to do. What do we do?_   She thinks  _please_ for the third time in her life.

Garnet opens her eyes. They fall first on Pearl, then Amethyst; then she turns her head to follow their frightened gaze. She shows no expression on her face, at first. The fusion stands in one fluid movement, eyes not leaving Rose Quartz.

Then with a strangled cry, she’s running hard into Rose’s open arms.

The sight is enough to ignite brimstone in Amethyst’s lungs, shuddering her into dry, soundless sobs, tears gathering at the corner of her eyelids. Garnet’s shoulders are shaking in tiny, brittle motions under Rose’s large hands. They make Garnet look small in comparison. Garnet,  _small._ Amethyst has never heard two more dissimilar words in her life.

Rose lifts a gentle hand to remove the shades and kiss Garnet’s brow. All three eyes are squeezed shut tight, tears leaking down the red cheeks. And Amethyst realizes Garnet isn’t so big as she thought: only in Rose’s absence does she seem tall in comparison.

Because she has to be. Because they needed her to be.

Amethyst chokes back her tears, and runs for Rose.

The arms wrap around her tight, Rose’s on her left, Garnet’s reaching to grasp the back of her head. “Rose,” Amethyst whimpers, too overwhelmed to care how her voice quavers. “You’re back. I can’t believe you’re really back.”

“Oh, Amethyst,” Rose murmurs kindly. She kisses the top of her hair, and Amethyst feels the tears fall free, lips shaking so hard she can barely breathe.

Then Rose draws back. Looks up from Amethyst’s head. Smiles.

“Pearl?” she asks, eyes questioning.

There’s silence. After a moment, Amethyst manages to make herself draw back and look, too.

Pearl is rooted to the ground, her eyes wide, a growing terror in them Amethyst has never seen before.  _The hell?_ she thinks. What’s wrong? Pearl missed Rose more than any of them. She should be  _happy._ Isn’t she  _happy?_

“Rose.” Pearl’s voice is faint, almost a whisper, but no longer shaking. “Where’s Steven?”

“Pearl, I—”

“Where’s Steven?Rose, where's Steven? Where is he?"

"Pearl—"

"Where is he? Rose,  _WHERE’S STEVEN?_ ”

* * *

  _fin_


End file.
